


Day 24 - Forced Mutism

by fanfictiongreenirises



Series: Whumptober 2020 [24]
Category: DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Concussions, Cults, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Good Bro Dick Grayson, Good Bro Tim Drake, Kidnapping, Mouth Sewn Shut, Protective Dick Grayson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27174721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfictiongreenirises/pseuds/fanfictiongreenirises
Summary: Dick would rather die - or worse - than let anything happen to Tim.No 24. YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSEForced Mutism| Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation
Relationships: Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Series: Whumptober 2020 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947217
Comments: 24
Kudos: 192





	Day 24 - Forced Mutism

**Author's Note:**

> a fic?? without Bruce??? I didn't think I had it in me this month either (but honestly I love these two so much they're my fav pairing besides Dick and Bruce)
> 
> Warnings: concussions and head injuries, sewing mouth shut
> 
> Disclaimer: don't own dc ^~^

THIS FANFICTION IS HOSTED ON **ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN** , WHERE YOU CAN READ IT FOR **FREE**. IF YOU’RE READING THIS ON A DIFFERENT WEBSITE, IT WAS POSTED THERE **WITHOUT** THE AUTHOR’S CONSENT.

Tim woke with a start. His head jerked upwards, immediately grimacing when his brain almost pounded out of his skull. His breathing came out in harsh gasps as he tried to get a hold of the pain, fingers digging into the concrete beneath him.

It took Tim a moment to realise that there was someone speaking to him.

“…it, kiddo, nice and easy. Just keep breathing with me, okay?”

Dick.

Tim forced himself to pry his eyes open once more, ignoring the way his head screamed at him. It took him longer than he’d like to admit to get used to the bright light in the room. Tim blinked for a while until the blurry objects around him came into sharper focus.

He looked up to see Dick’s worried face peering down at him. Tim tried for a smile, but it seemed to only make Dick’s worry lines worse.

“Hey,” he croaked. “What happened?”

Dick hadn’t yet used any name for Tim, and they were both clothed in white shifts, which told Tim nothing. Tim could only vaguely remember him and Dick heading down to the garage beneath WE, on the way home. Had they been kidnapped?

Dick grimaced at the question. “We, uh,” he leaned back a little, giving Tim a view of the purpling bruise on one side of his face, “we were kidnapped right as we got to the car. Brought here to be ‘liberated’ from capitalism.”

Tim snorted, and immediately regretted it when his vision went white for a moment. “What, by keeping us here in a literal cage?” Because there were bars coming down from the ceiling all around them. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the room, either – this was a prison cell for just the two of them.

Dick let out a long breath. “Something about Bruce and WE,” he said, moving to sit beside Tim. “Dunno if they’re the ransom type, though.”

Tim frowned. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Dick had apparently only gone to sit next to Tim to get a better look at whatever head injury he had that was fucking up his information processing speed, because the next thing Tim knew, there were light fingers probing on the tender flesh of his scalp. Despite how little the touches landed, Tim still hissed at the contact.

Dick muttered a quiet apology, and then explained, “The clothes, for one thing. And we aren’t the only ones here. We’re just kept in a different room to the rest of them for some reason. From everyone’s getup, this kinda seems like a cult.”

“A _cult?”_ Tim _really_ didn’t want to be kidnapped by a cult. Being hungry for money was one thing, but when that was replaced by other needs, it all went a bit kooky.

It was at that moment that the door on the other end of the room opened, and four people entered.

Tim could instantly see what Dick had meant by the cult vibes. There were two men and two women. All four had white shifts on as well, in the exact same fitting – it was clear that that was all they were wearing. The women had their hair in two braids, reaching just past the shoulder. The men had theirs reaching just above the ears and parted at the side, the exact same haircut.

Dick stood up. “Who are you?” he asked.

He was playing the part of the older brother, Tim knew, using the fact that Tim was still pretty short for his height to further imply that Tim was a lot younger than he actually was. There were people Tim would’ve rankled at doing that, but this was Dick, who _was_ his older brother in all the ways that counted, and no matter what issues they might have between them, the deep-seated trust was still there.

“We are the Children of Angom,” one of the men said, stepping forward. Behind him, the remaining three spread rather like birds in a V formation, which Tim would’ve found funny had this name not sounded so sinister. “We have brought you here to heal you.”

“Heal us?” Dick said. “Of what?”

He was getting information, but also buying time for Tim to collect himself as much as he could. Tim wouldn’t let him down. He gathered up as much strength as he could, forcing his mind to shove as much of the pain and dizziness into a little box as he was humanly possible.

“From the vulture who took you boys in.” This time, it was one of them women who answered Dick. She stepped out of the formation carefully and approached the bars of the cage, crouching down. “You don’t have to worry about him every again. We can be a family now.”

Tim blinked, and saw the same look of absolute befuddlement echoed on Dick’s face. “Lady,” Tim said, “what’re you talking about?”

“Don’t speak to her like that,” the first man said. “You will treat your new mother with respect.”

“New mother,” Tim repeated, struggling to his feet. “So you’re just kidnapping us, is that it?”

The woman frowned. “Honey,” she said, “I think this one needs a little discipline, to show what happens when he disrespects his parents.”

Dick spoke up immediately. “He’s only a kid,” he said. “Wouldn’t it be better to make an example of me, being the older sibling and all?” Tim couldn’t see his face, but he was sure of the fact that Dick was staring ahead at them with eyes slightly widened, giving him an innocent, pleading look.

“No,” he protested. “No, take me, c’mon.” Tim stumbled towards them, vision coming and going. “I’m the one you—”

“Dears, we’ll dole out the punishment as we see fit,” the lady said, watching all of this with a look of amusement. “No amount of bargaining will change—”

“You’re a downright bitch, you know that?” Dick said suddenly. He was standing on the other end of the cage to Tim, and when Tim gave him a wide-eyed look, he responded with a warning glare. “You bring us here and expect us to be _grateful_ to you fuckers?” And then he spat on the ground, right in front of them.

Tim didn’t know whether he felt faint because of his wound, or because he knew that this was for _him_ , that Dick was essentially drawing their attention away from him and incurring all their wrath onto himself. But he knew that Dick had also done this to anger them – they would need to open up the cage to do whatever it was they wanted to, or at least come close enough that pickpocketing or hostage-taking would become an option.

And Tim would be ready for that.

Now, the man who had spoken at first said, “I don’t like that mouth of yours, son. I think I’ll have to do something about it.”

Tim’s muscles bunched underneath him, the nervous energy coiling through his gut, but right as the man approached Dick in the cell, an electric current flooded Tim's system.

Tim fell to his knees, and then to the side, writhing on the ground. He could hear Dick’s voice, but his mind didn’t have the strength to process what he was shouting. Tim must’ve blacked out at some point, because when turned his head towards the other side of the room, Dick was strapped to the table there, five straps across his body.

There was one hold his forehead in place, ensuring that he couldn’t move his head. Dick thrashed around regardless, doing his best to shake them off, but it was no use – his body was tied down far too well for him to be able to do anything.

“What’re you doing to him?” Tim croaked, moving to his hands and knees. Immediately, another bolt of electricity shot through him, and he fell back to the ground.

He didn’t black out this time, though – he pulled himself up a moment later and crawled to the edge of the cage, getting as close to Dick as he could. Dick couldn’t turn his head, but Tim knew he could probably see through his peripheral vision that Tim was there.

Tim had never felt more useless.

They got out a little sewing kit, and Tim frowned – did Dick have injuries they were tending to? Had they cut into him? He couldn’t see any blood…

And then his eyes widened as one of them clamped Dick’s jaw shut and held his lips together. Dick moved his head as much as he could, movements frantic and wild, the whites of his eyes showing as he tried desperately to get away from the needle that was coming towards him.

Tim screamed until he was hoarse, but no one paid any attention to him, not even moving away from Dick to come tase him again. They had single-minded attention to sewing Dick’s mouth shut.

Blood dripped down from where the needle had punctured holes into Dick’s flesh. Tim hoped they hadn’t pierced the muscle, and had stuck to just the lips – painful as it was, it would be much worse otherwise. Dick couldn’t even scream without risking the needle stabbing somewhere unintended, and after they got halfway through, couldn’t get his lips open enough.

Tim was tasered again when they shoved Dick back into the cell. The moment he’d recovered from it, he was moving, clawing his way over to Dick as fast as he could.

Dick had been thrown into the cage, and he hadn’t moved after he’d landed. He still lay in a pile on the ground, and Tim could hear his harsh breaths as he tried desperately to control the pain.

“Dick,” he said in a rush, “Dick, hey, look at me—”

It was only the fact that he’d watched the threads going into Dick’s face that stopped Tim from reeling back. There were harsh black lines criss-crossing through Dick’s lips, pulled tight. Blood still dripped from them – there was a small puddle where Dick had landed, and the side of his mouth was a river of red. Tim could see that the thread was thin enough that if Dick attempted to move his mouth, the string would cut through his skin.

Dick’s eyes were tightly screwed shut, and his fingers were digging into his palms. Tim grabbed one of his hands, and the responding grip was strong, desperate.

Tim pressed Dick’s hand to his chest, forcing his own breathing to slow down. “Follow my lead, okay?” he said in as calm a voice as he could manage. “In… and out…”

It was some time before Dick’s pulse slowed to something that told Tim he was either dozing off or almost asleep. Tim manoeuvred the two of them around so Dick’s head was lying in Tim’s lap, Tim leaning against the cold wall of the cell. One of his hands was still clutching Dick’s, though Dick’s grip had relaxed.

Tim couldn’t relax, though. His eyes stayed on the door on the other end of the room, waiting for the next time their captors would appear.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!! I think this marks a week left of October???

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [To Kill A Mocking Bird](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27364516) by [Scotty1609](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scotty1609/pseuds/Scotty1609)




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